


Divided Duty

by orphan_account



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie nodded and looked as if she was trying not to cry. “If you leave, don’t bother coming back, English.” When a Russian Agent tells Peggy Leviathan wants to make a trade, Peggy has to decided whether to try and save a past love or a build a relationship with a new one</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Angela Martinelli had never begged for anything in her life. Everything she had (minus the very large, very nice apartment) she had worked for herself and she was proud of that. However, when it came to Peggy Carter she wasn’t above begging, especially if there was a chance that begging could save Peggy’s life. Angie had other people in her life, she did; but none of them were Peggy. They didn’t scare her one second and make her laugh the next. They didn’t stand up for her and threaten the men who treated her badly. She had no-one like Peggy and she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

 

“Can’t they send someone else?” Angie asked, almost pleaded. Peggy moved around her room gathering items she needed and placing them in a duffle bag.

 

“No-one else will go,” Peggy replied, like she was telling Angie she didn’t have a spare dollar.

 

“Well doesn’t tell ya something? It’s probably dangerous; too dangerous.” Peggy looked at her but didn’t answer. She calmly folded a pair of military style pants and added them to the bag. She made her towards the en-suite bathroom but Angie blocked her path. “English, what’s so important that you’re so hell bent on going?”

 

“It’s a rescue mission,” Peggy admitted. “They sacrificed themselves for me, for everyone and now I have the chance to bring him home.”

 

“Him?” Angie repeated, sounding confused. She didn’t know much about Peggy’s time during the war but she did know Peggy seemed to hate every man she came into contact with in New York and the thought of her loving one enough to risk her life like that was alien to Angie. They had built up a good situation over the last couple of weeks, Angie had learned to deal with whatever she felt towards Peggy and now Peggy was just going to ruin. Angie felt betrayed.

 

“Yes, “Peggy confirmed before side-stepping the other woman. Once made in the bathroom she reached for her toothbrush but let her hand drop when she noticed Angie’s reflection in the mirror.

 

“Did you love him?”

 

Peggy didn’t respond. She didn’t want to have this conversation; Angie wasn’t even supposed to be at home. Peggy was just supposed to have grabbed what she needed and left without Angie knowing.

 

Angie nodded and looked as if she was trying not to cry. “If you leave, don’t bother coming back, English.”

 

Peggy wanted to say so much; that it wasn’t Angie’s apartment, that Peggy had more of a right to live here than Angie did, and that friends don’t give ultimatums. She wanted to explain why she felt like she had to do this. Why she felt like owed she owed to him to rescue him. The only thing that escaped her mouth was a single pathetic sob.

 

Angie left.

 

**8 DAYS EARLIER**

 

Peggy was six weeks in to an eight week extended sick leave. She had two weeks left to decide whether to return to the “phone company”, as Angie still insisted on calling it, or to hand in her resignation and call an end to her spying career. Every night, she sat at the mahogany desk in her room and wrote the pros and cons of the two options available. If she left she would have to find another job. As a woman, the only real options she had were: Teacher, secretary, social worker, journalist, or waitress. She didn’t have the patience or people skills for waitress or social worker, her word count per minute was lousy which ruled out secretary and possibly journalism, and she had no teaching qualifications whatsoever.

 

If she stayed at the SSR she would have to be put up with being, first, under-used and then under-credited. She may have told Soussa she was fine with what Thompson had done but she wasn’t. Her, Soussa, and Jarvis had saved New York City and Thompson had swooped in like a bird of prey and taken all of the credit. She wasn’t insecure about her skills or her value but she was annoyed. She had thought that after his emotional revelation about Japan that he would have the morality not to do something like that again but she had been wrong.

 

Some night she thought maybe she would just live off Howard Stark for the rest of her life. She was sure he wouldn’t mind (that much).

 

“Penny for your thoughts, English?” Angie said as she sat down in the booth across from Peggy. Peggy jumped slightly. “Wow for someone who works at the phone company you don’t seem to good at answering calls.”

 

Peggy laughed. “Well, I haven’t connected a call in quite some time. Anyway, Angie, my thoughts aren’t worth your money.”

 

“I don’t think anything form your head could ever bore me, Pegs,” Angie said, almost as if she was telling Peggy the weather, because it was a fact. Angie had been a little afraid that when the moved in with each other they would get bored of each other or end up hating each other but it hadn’t happened. She had spent nearly all day every day with Peggy but Angie was still learning new things about her or seeing new sides of her. “You thinking about your job again?”

 

“I don’t know what to do, “Peggy admitted. Someone called for a coffee refill.

 

Angie rolled her eyes. “I gotta get back to work but lemme ask you this: if you could have one job, what would you choose?”

 

Peggy watched Angie as she left. Angie knew what she wanted from life whereas Peggy had never thought about it. Almost straight out of Secondary School, Peggy had joined the army and trained as acode breaker. From there, she had convinced her superiors to field train her and then came the SSR and that was it. She had never known anything else; could she really just give it up?

 

“Are they sending you out for the lunch orders now, Agent Thompson,” Peggy quipped as she saw the blonde haired man approaching her. “Or is it chief now?”

 

“Acting chief,” he told her as he sat down. “That the girl you’re living with?” He asked gesturing in Angie’s direction. Peggy nodded. “She’s cute.”

 

“She’s taken, “Peggy answered without missing a beat. Angie was an attractive woman and men staring at her weren’t a rare occurrence but it always made Peggy feel uneasy. She especially wasn’t going to let Thompson near her.

 

“Not surprising,” Thompson commented which earned him a glare.

 

“Are you here for another reason?” Peggy asked sharply. “How did you even find me?”

 

Thompson ignored her last question. “Midday our time yesterday, the West Germany Intelligence Division picked up two men and woman in eastern Switzerland. The two males sang like canaries but the woman wouldn’t talk until a few hours ago.”

 

“And,” Peggy prompted.

 

“And she said she would only speak to Peggy Carter.”

 

“Leviathan?” Peggy asked, dropping her voice. Thompson shrugged. Peggy nodded and her eyes went to Angie behind the till. Things were just beginning to settle down. They had set up a routine. Peggy would always wake before Angie and do her exercises and shower. As she was reading the newspaper after her breakfast, Angie would wake up, groggy until after a cup of coffee. Then Peggy would listen to her sing as she went about getting ready. Then, Angie would go to work and Peggy would arrive at the Automat for lunch or sometimes for just a cup of coffee. In the evenings, Peggy would usually cook dinner, despite being awful at it. It was typical that something would try and screw that up.

 

“Alright,” Peggy said, slipping effortlessly into ‘agent’ mode. “I want the woman and the agent she talked with to be brought here forthwith. Not a word to anyone else and give me their ETA as soon as you have one.”

 

Thompson nodded and stood up without a word. It was almost surprising how easily giving orders came to her.

 


	2. Chapter2

“English, any chance you’ve drawn me a bath?” Angie called from the front door of the apartment as she locked the door after her. Peggy had been right about it being far from the theatre district; it was also far from the Automat and the money Angie saved on rent she spent on subway tickets. “Peggy,” she called again when she got no answer. The apartment was big but Angie had become used to using her stage voice on announcing when she was home. She didn’t want Peggy hitting her over her the head with a saucepan, or whatever spies used as weapons. Of course, Peggy had never out rightly said she was a spy but when Angie had put two and two together, Peggy had told her she had gotten four and they had left it that.

 

“In my room, “she heard faintly and she headed down the hallway, past the drawing room, the library, then the turn off for the kitchen, and then turned left. When she reached where Peggy was, the other woman was hanging up the telephone.

 

“Who was that?” Angie asked stopping in the doorway. From where she stood she had an impressive view of the New York skyline. Peggy’s room was large, so was Angie’s, and came complete with a four poster bed, a writing desk-which Angie suspected cost more than she would ever make in her lifetime- and a large ensuite bathroom.

 

“Just Howard, “Peggy said nonchalantly standing up. “And I have not drawn you a bath, darling, but I will have dinner ready for when you’re done. Did much happen after I left?”

 

Peggy had left shortly after Thompson so she could be near a phone. After waiting almost five hours without word, he happened to call just as Angie returned home to tell her the prisoner would be waiting for her tomorrow morning at nine. She didn’t have any idea what was going on and she was already lying. Which reminded her, she would need to have an excuse for not being around tomorrow.

 

“I think there’s a new guy for you to stab with a fork,” Angie told her as she flopped on Peggy’s bed.

 

“Consider it done,” Peggy said with a laugh but she wasn’t joking. She knew Angie wasn’t a delicate china doll but if she was ‘rude’ to customers she could be fired and Peggy wouldn’t have that. She would protect Angela Martinelli from sexist men, trained Russian assassins, and anything else that came in between.

 

“Mind if I use your tub, Pegs? I don’t think I have the energy to walk to my room.”

 

Peggy told her she didn’t mind and grabbed Angie’s outstretched hand to pull her up. Angie landed a few centimetres from her face and Peggy swore she couldn’t breathe; there was just something so consuming about Angie’s presence that she seemed to swallow up all the oxygen in the room. Peggy cleared her throat. “I’ll go start dinner. Anything in particular you’d like?”

 

“As long as it’s something you wouldn’t find at a diner, I’m good. Other than that, surprise me.”

 

With a wink she was gone, shutting Peggy’s bathroom door behind her. Peggy smoothed down her skirt and walked the short distance to another bathroom. There, she splashed cold water on her face to try and tame her flushed cheeks. She felt like a pathetic schoolgirl. No woman should get that flustered over their best friend unless-Unless nothing, she told herself sharply as she dried her face on one of the shot towels. The heat was always a little high in the apartment and that was the reason for her red face; that was the only reason.

 

Peggy didn’t have any better luck in the kitchen. She stood, hands on hips, staring into the open cupboards. They had used up their tinned tuna, tinned everything else that was solid food, they had no meat but had a large quantity of baking ingredients. Sighing, she made a mental note to call Jarvis, took two tins of soup and set them on to heat on the stove. She grabbed the bread, the butter and brought them out to the dining room along with the soup when it was ready. Heels clicking on the polished floor, she reminded herself of a parlour maid, except parlour maids didn’t yell loudly when calling people to dinner.

 

Angie appeared five minutes later, hair still damp wearing a nightdress and robe borrowed from Peggy’s wardrobe. Peggy raised an eyebrow at the acquisitioning of her clothes but didn’t make any verbal comment. Angie ignored her raised eyebrow; food always got Angie’s undivided attention. “We short of food again, Peg?” She asked as she sat down and began buttering a slice of bread.

 

“Unless you’d like cupcakes,” she replied. “I can make you some eggs if you’d like?”

 

“No, thanks, English. So many people complained about the eggs today, I’m tempted to cross ‘em of the menu.”

 

Peggy chuckled and reached across the table to pat Angie’s hand. They finished their soup in relative silence. When they were finished, Peggy cleared the dishes, while Angie wandered off. When she returned, she had a bottle of schnapps in her hand. “What d’ya say to a nightcap, English?”

 

Peggy really shouldn’t have; not with what she had planned tomorrow because drinking schnapps with Angie meant staying up into the late hours telling stories and gossiping about everyone and anyone. But Angie looked at her with that look she could never refuse. “I’d love one,” she said and followed Angie to the drawing room.

 

“Actually, Angie, while I remember, I’m meeting up with an old school friend tomorrow; they’re in town for a while,” Peggy told her. This was the cover story she had made up for her absence tomorrow.

 

Angie faltered pouring the schnapps. “Who’s the friend?”

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Angela Martinelli, are you jealous?” Peggy teased.

 

Angie looked defensive. “No ‘course not. What’s there to be jealous about?” She asked and handed Peggy her glass. There was, in reality, absolutely nothing to be jealous about but that didn’t stop the feeling creeping into Angie’s stomach, like bubbles rising to the surface of a well. She sat beside Peggy on the couch and folded her legs underneath herself.

 

“To reunions,” Angie proposed raising her glass.

 

“To reunions,” Peggy echoed.

 

Their glasses clinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

Peggy had stayed up a lot later than she had intended to and she blamed Angie. After her third glass of schnapps, Angie had stood up and began performing her five minute audition monologue for her about ten times before she was happy with it. Then Angie had told her all of the gossip she had heard from the girls at the Griffith. By the time Angie had finished it was midnight. It still surprised Peggy how long Angie could talk for and how she never got bored listening to her.

 

So, yawning as she stepped off the elevator, she was slow to realise the SSR was quiet apart from two very faint voices. Curiously, she walked forward, the sound of her heels alerting everyone she was there. Every Agent was sitting at their desks, faces buried in paperwork, trying very hard not to look at Thompson’s office, where he was arguing with a woman. She had her back to the bullpen so all Peggy could see was her ginger hair and brown leather jacket.

 

Peggy went straight to her desk, not wanting to disturb them, relieved it hadn’t been touched. She had been sure other Agents would have stolen all of her stationary. She supposed she had Soussa to thank for that. As she sat down, he smiled warmly at her and she smiled back. She was well aware of the feelings he had for her. A woman would have to be blind not to realise a man who kept asking them out for drinks liked them. She had a lot of respect for him and she recognised the strength he had but he didn’t have fire. He would never leave her breathless, or challenge her like Steve had or Angie did.

 

Once seated, she noticed, ruefully, noted that her paperwork pile-always a thorn in her side- hadn’t been touched. Whether she decided on leaving or staying, she would need to sign off on all of her reports. Seeing no time like the present, she took one of the manila files off the stack and began reading what she had typed weeks previous.

 

“Hey, Peggy, are you back?” Soussa asked as she was half way through reading. He was standing in front of her desk.

 

“Not yet, “she answered, “Just tying up some loose ends. Who’s the woman in Thompson’s office?”

 

“I don’t know. She was here when we all started arriving. They’ve only been arguing for about fifteen minutes.”

 

Peggy checked her watch: it was half nine; SSR clock in time for most Agents was eight in the morning and the prisoner was here before that. With an exasperated eye roll, she stood up and knocked on the office door but entered without waiting for a response. “Thompson, you told me the prisoner would be here for nine. And yet Soussa has just informed me she was here long before that. So, ignoring the fact you lied to me, were you talking to the prisoner without me?”

 

“Yes,” Thompson replied, with the audacity to look annoyed. It was obvious this was what he had been discussing with the woman.

 

“That wasn’t the plan, “she told him, forcing herself to stay calm.

 

“Well, Carter, you didn’t exactly give me a plan before you hung up on me,” Thompson countered. Peggy reminded him, with an almost tired tone that it wouldn’t have mattered seeing as he had lied to her in the first place. The woman tried to escape the tension by suggesting she wait outside but Thompson told her to stay. He sat down in his chair. If a bullet didn’t kill him, a heart attack caused by stress would. “But now that you’re here, why don’t you tell us your plan?”

 

Peggy stared pointedly at him and then glared at him when he gestured to the two seats in front of his desk. The woman sat down with hesitation crossing her right leg over her left. Peggy joined them after a pause; being smaller than people was something that had never made her comfortable. “We transfer her to the tombs, “Peggy started, referencing the cells in the basement of the building. Then we try and gather information about her: where she has been, what she’s done. She is Leviathan, right?”

 

“Ligature mark on her left wrist,” Thompson said by way of conformation. Peggy nodded. She had thought with the defeat Leviathan had suffered with the chemical nerve gas they would take a break to regroup and come up with a new strategy. Or, maybe this was it; use one of theirs to send Peggy and the SSR on a wild goose chase.

 

However it was risky. There was no way they could’ve known for sure West Germany Intelligence would track Peggy down and hand the prisoner over. They could have just as easily thrown her in jail in Germany for God knows how long. This begged the question, why not just track Peggy down themselves they had done it once. Why go through a third party? Unless, the one they had in custody had gone rogue and had lost all of her access to resources and information. Then, in that case, the information she had mightn’t be reliable anymore. Thompson asking the woman if the men back in West Germany would help them disrupted her train of thought and she realised she had never properly introduced herself.

 

“Peggy Carter, “she said holding out her hand like her years of etiquette training had thought her to do.

 

“Klaudia Stein,” the woman introduced herself, taking Peggy’s hand. As they shook, Peggy took a good look at her. She was tall and athletic looking with green eyes and a slightly tanned complexion. Her white shirt was slightly creased and her heels were of a practical height.

 

“Excellent. I just want to get a look at the prisoner,” Peggy announced standing up, “and then we can start gathering information. Agent Stein, would you like to accompany me?”

 

“Sure,” Kaludia said sounding unsure. She followed Peggy out of the office-getting some strange looks from the other men- and down the hall to interrogation. Peggy had to tell the Agent guarding the observation room to move twice before he listened to her. As Peggy looked the prisoner, Klaudia explained how they found the prisoner and the two other men at a dinner in castle in the Swiss Alps.

 

The prisoner was in her mid to late twenties with almost peroxide blonde hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in an unflattering dark grey jumpsuit. Despite that, she reminded Peggy of Dottie. A chill ran up her spine thinking about how close Dottie had gotten to her-and Angie- before Peggy had realised what was happening. No matter what this woman’s game was, is she had any form of Leviathan training she was dangerous, extremely dangerous.

 

That didn’t deter her though. She stood up a little straighter. “Let’s get to work.”

 


	4. Chpater 4

After processing the prisoner, collecting fingerprints and the like, and overseeing her transfer to the tombs, Klaudia, Thompson, and Peggy spent the next two hours in Thompson’s office. This earned the three of them odd looks from just about every agent in the SSR but they paid no attention to them. Thompson gave the woman’s description to every intelligence agency on the American side of the Iron Curtain and Klaudia requested the men back in Germany to re-interview the men they had arrested but it would be tomorrow, at the earliest, before they heard anything. Then Peggy had an idea she wasn’t sure about but she suggested it anyway: Leave a message in a Russian drop box the SSR had discovered in the wake of the Leviathan attack. Both Thompson and Klaudia looked at her.

 

“To gauge their reaction,” Peggy explained. “We pretend we’re Leviathan; tell them she’s been transferred to New York. If there’s an increase of chatter or activity then we can assume she’s important.”

 

Klaudia nodded but Thompson remained sceptical. “If she’s that important, then why get caught?” He asked. Peggy shook her head; it was a question that was bothering her too but she was hoping that their investigation would shed some light. Thompson sighed but gave her the go ahead.

 

The three of them then spent the next hour agreeing on what the message should say, with Thompson disappearing and returning with two coffees for himself and Klaudia and a tea for Peggy which she thanked him for with a smile. Peggy then translated it, coded it, and delivered it to the drop-a loose a brick in an alley halfway across a town-under the watch of Thompson. After all that was done, Peggy was famished and decided it was time for lunch.

 

“Care to join me, Agent Stein?” She asked. Peggy had a double motive: one she was being polite, two she wanted to learn more about the woman away from the SSR. She probably wasn’t a Russian spy but Peggy was nothing but not careful, almost to the point of annoyance. After how close Dottie had gotten to her- and to Angie- she wasn’t going to be lax. Klaudia agreed and grabbed her jacket from where she draped it over the back of one of the chairs. Peggy decided on the Automat as Angie wasn’t supposed to be there.

 

Except she was.

 

When the two other women entered the diner, Angie was standing at the counter in uniform, looking annoyed as hell. Angie had spotted them so Peggy saw no other alternative then to go with the lie she had told Angie the night before. “Pretend you’ve known me for years and not four hours,” Peggy ordered in a low voice.

 

Klaudia started laughing and linked one of arms with Peggy’s, without asking what the problem was, and they kept up the charade as they got sandwiches from the automatic wall at the back. Klaudia also got a slice of cheesecake and Peggy guessed there weren’t much dessert options in West Germany. They then took their seats, sitting opposite each other in Peggy’s usual booth.

 

“I thought you were off today, “Peggy said as Angie walked over.

 

“So did I,” Angie replied, scornfully, “Until one of the girls decided to be sick. She your school friend,” she asked gesturing loosely with her pencil in Klaudia’s direction.

 

“Yep, that’s me,” Klaudia answered. She sneaked a glance at Angie’s name tag. “Ella Monroe. And you must be the Angela Peggy always writes about in her letters.”

 

“You don’t sound British,” Angie commented a lot sharper than she had intended to. The only thing the woman with Peggy had done was spend time with Peggy and that was no reason to hate a woman. Angie, herself, still had female school friends she saw regularly and for her to be annoyed at Peggy for doing the same was hypocritical and not what friends do. Yet for Angie, where Peggy Carter was concerned, logic never played a part in the equation. Maybe she was just too used to Peggy’s undivided attention.

 

“I’m not, Klaudia continued. “I was sent to boarding school in England as punishment. I only made it nine months before they kicked me out.”

 

Peggy smiled as if she was smiling at an old, very real memory and was relieved when Angie didn’t ask any more questions as she wasn’t sure how much of a cover story Klaudia could make up on the spot. Angie left the table, returned with a pot of black coffee, and poured Peggy a cup. Klaudia politely refused.

 

“So,” Peggy began after they had spent a few minutes eating,” how does an American end up working for a British Agency?”

 

“Canadian, “Klaudia corrected. “I worked for S.O.E during the war. Afterwards they were looking for people to go to Germany and I volunteered. I’m fluent in German.” Peggy nodded and resumed eating her sandwich instead of replying. After another few minutes, Klaudia sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a Russian spy but I can have my service record sent to you.”

 

Peggy’s first reaction was to deny that was her thought but Klaudia didn’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate that. “That won’t be necessary. I’m just trying to be thorough.”

 

“I understand,” Klaudia said and meant it. Russian spies had been popping up all over Western Europe like weeds over the past few months.

 

“Hey, princess,” a male voice called from a few tables over. He was about forty and not unlike the other man Peggy had threatened. It was directed at Angie. “The best you have to offer is in the back, if you get what I mean.”

 

Angie, dignifiedly, walked away without comment but Peggy could see the urge she had to pour the hot contents of the coffee pot she had in her hand over the man’s head. Klaudia rolled her eyes at the man and muttered something under her breath that Peggy didn’t catch but knew wasn’t complimentary. Peggy knew exactly what this man needed. “Can you get that cheesecake to go?” She asked already standing up taking the fork from the table in her hand. Klaudia nodded. Peggy walked calmly over to the man. The way she stuck the fork in the man’s side, however, was not calm.

 

“What the hell, lady?” He started to complain which only made Peggy more annoyed.

 

“Apologise, “she demanded, “or this fork will penetrate your brachial artery. Do you know what that means?”

 

The man nodded, clearly nervous. “Hey sweetheart,” he addressed Angie. Angie rolled her eyes as she turned around but her demeanour changed when she Peggy and the fork. She stood taller and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry about what I said. Forgive me,” he added hastily when the fork was pressed deeper against his skin.

 

“Tip generously and I might,” she replied. The man nodded enthusiastically and began pulling out bills until there was a three dollar tip on the table. Angie told him he was forgiven. The man was still afraid to breath.

 

“Excellent,” Peggy said removing the fork. “I’m glad we could talk.”

 

Peggy looked up at the satisfied smile on Angie’s face and gave a satisfied smile of her own. Their eyes met. Angie mouthed ‘thanks’ and Peggy mouth back ‘My pleasure, darling.’

 


	5. Chapter 5

“That you, Peg?” Angie shouted from the drawing room, where she was lying on the couch with a magazine over her face. She had no doubt the sight was overly dramatic but she didn’t care. She was exhausted and if it was an intruder they could take whatever they liked as long they didn’t force her to move.

 

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she heard Peggy yell at the same time she heard a male voice wishing her a good evening. Angie knew she should be polite and go say hello to Jarvis but she thought if she stood up she would collapse into a pile on the floor so instead she just shouted back: “You too, Mr Fancy”. She heard a mumble of their two voices, the door being locked, and then Peggy’s heels on the hardwood floors as she walked down the hall passed the drawing room. After another few minutes she heard Peggy’s teasing voice, “Tired, dear?”

 

Angie lifted the magazine covering her eyes. Peggy was standing, one hand on the door frame, the other on her left hip, with a small playful smile on her face, and shorter without her heels on. Angie should’ve been annoyed that her discomfort was amusing her friend but it wasn’t like there was anything seriously wrong with her. Besides, Peggy’s smile was just too beautiful to stay mad at; Angie loved when she made Peggy smile.

 

“What d’ya think, English?” Angie said feigning annoyance. Truth was, she was feeling much better now that Peggy was home. “I almost fell asleep on the way back here and thought I was gonna miss my stop. Did ya know that’s one ‘a my biggest fears?”

 

Peggy shook her head as she walked across the room. As she approached, Angie couldn’t help but notice how good Peggy looked in the dress she was wearing. The burgundy dress with the keyhole in the chest was one of Angie favourite dresses that Peggy owned. Peggy was attractive and, based on looks alone (and her legs), guys should’ve been falling all over her but most men didn’t like women who had respect for themselves. Come to think of it, both of them never seemed to have great look when it came to men. Maybe, Angie mused, they should just become devoted friends and forget about men.

 

They already lived together and they already had a good system going. They had a good relationship, they were working on the way Peggy had lied to her but Angie didn’t hold that against her anymore. They liked spending time together, evident in the way Peggy would still come to the automat at lunch; although that could also be because they always seemed to run out of food. Angie really liked Peggy’s company and-Angie stopped her train of thought there. She couldn’t keep thinking like that. She changed the subject.

 

“How was your day with your friend?” She asked, hoping there wasn’t any resentment on her voice. Peggy lifted Angie’s legs enough so she could sit down and then placed them on her lap.

 

“Fine, “Peggy answered, not giving specific details. After the diner incident, she had returned to the SSR to make a dent in the paperwork pile on her desk, and she had to her relief. They hadn’t heard anything about the Russian, as of yet. “We just went window shopping, “she added.

 

“My favourite hobby,” Angie said sarcastically sitting up but leaving her feet on Peggy’s lap. Peggy laughed and began absent-mildly tracing patterns on Angie’s ankle through her stockings. Angie pretended the contact didn’t affect her. They sat in silence, Peggy still rubbing her ankle, until Angie started sniffing, loudly. “What’s cookin’, English?”

 

“My attempt at improving on yesterday’s soup,” Peggy said cryptically. Checking her watch, she moved Angie’s legs and stood up. “In fact, it should be almost ready.”

 

“That doesn’t tell me anything, “Angie replied and stood up to follow Peggy. They both reached the kitchen as the egg timer on the counter beside the oven dinged. Peggy opened the oven door and the smell that reached Angie’s nose was almost like coming home. Peggy muttered “perfect” under her breath and pulled the tray from the oven.

 

“Lasagne?” Angie asked almost as if she didn’t believe it. Angie could cook Italian food, she was good at it, but she never had time. As a result, the only time she had lasagne was when she visited her parents which was that often anymore with the amount of shifts and acting classes and auditions she was trying to squeeze into her week. Peggy was staring at her with a smile and it wasn’t a teasing one like earlier. It seemed to Angie like a smile of adoration.

 

“I love that about you, Angie,” Peggy said. “The way you find happiness in the simple things.”

 

Angie opened her mouth to say…well she didn’t know what to say maybe something like thank you or something she loved about Peggy but what came out was not along the lines of what she wanted to say, “How did you get this?”

 

Peggy was silent for a second but then cleared her throat. “Jarvis,” she said simply, and it explained everything. “You deserve something special.”

 

“I already got something special,” Angie said, realising only after how cheesy and flirtatious it sounded. What was she doing? _You’re not supposed to flirt with your best friend. Martinelli,_ she yelled mentally at herself.

 

Peggy dipped her head to try and hide the red on her cheeks and smiled. “Why, Angie, flattery will you get you nowhere. Now get some plates and I’ll bring this into the dining room.”

 

“Sure thing, English,” Angie answered and smiled slightly as Peggy passed her. She spent longer getting the plates then it should’ve taken trying to get her heartbeat under control. She may have just ‘accidentally’ (she wasn’t sure what was happening anymore) flirted with Peggy Carter but Peggy had flirted back. She had flirted back and hadn’t seemed to think twice about it. What was happening?

 

“Angie, darling, are you alright in there?”

 

“Fine, Pegs. D’ya need forks?” She asked but grabbed a handful of cutlery without waiting for an answer. _This situation would be easier if she stopped calling me “darling”,_ she thought as she made her way to the dining room.

 

“Are you expecting someone else for dinner?” Peggy inquired with a raised eyebrow as Angie dumped the cutlery on the table. Angie looked at her quizzically until she realised she had brought four knives and three forks. She apologised as she handed Peggy the plates.

 

“Tell me when,” Peggy instructed. Angie told her to stop when a quarter of the lasagne was on her plate. As Peggy handed her the plate their hands touched. Angie forgot to breathe. She took her plate and sat down without saying thank you; she didn’t trust herself to speak out loud. Thankfully, Peggy didn’t say anything; just got her own portion and began eating.

 

The lasagne was lovely but Angie couldn’t enjoy it. She found herself angry at herself. She had crossed a line; they had teased each other plenty of times before but they had never flirted before. She was also annoyed that Peggy had flirted back. Peggy was the sensible one; she wasn’t supposed to do things like that. She couldn’t have meant it could she?

 

Angie chewed her lasagne. Peggy Carter was going to be death of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Up next: A Cartinelli slow dance. Until then...


	6. Chapter 6

After dinner, Peggy had insisted on cleaning the dishes on account of how out sorts Angie seemed; however Peggy just chalked it down to tiredness. Her kindness made Angie more annoyed at the entire pre-dinner situation but she didn’t contest the decision as she was tired. She disappeared to her room and tried to read a magazine but after two hours all she had managed to read was five pages. Her mind kept drifting to the one thing she didn’t want to think about. She couldn’t do this; she couldn’t ruin a friendship for her feelings, not one as good as the one she had.

 

Angie knew Peggy couldn’t feel the same; that whatever Peggy had done in the kitchen hadn’t been flirting; Angie had misinterpreted whatever Peggy had done. There was no way she felt the same about Angie. The whole cliché of the girl falling for her best friend was bad enough as it was but when that friend was a female it could only end in disaster. She flung the magazine on the ground and decided to get a drink; whether the drink was going to be water or alcohol she didn’t know yet. However, when she ran into Peggy in the hall, Angie decided on alcohol; a lot of alcohol.

 

Peggy was just freshly showered with her wet hair stuck to her head. She was in only her nightgown and robe and there were still beads of water on her chest which Angie had to try very hard not to look at. Peggy stood with one eyebrow raised; oblivious to the discomfort Angie was feeling. This isn’t supposed to happen, she pleaded to God and any other higher power that existed.

 

“Just getting water,” Angie mumbled and walked quickly down the hall but Peggy followed her.

 

“How about something a little stronger?” Peggy suggested and Angie nodded in agreement; alcohol would be absolutely perfect. She took the bottle of schnapps from the cupboard in the kitchen, while Peggy grabbed to glasses. Drinking schnapps had been so much easier last night before Angie had flirted with her best friend.

 

They drank in the drawing room like they had yesterday but tonight they didn’t really talk. Angie didn’t trust herself and Peggy was content with silence. They knocked back glass after glass as the radio filled the silence. After about twenty minutes, most of Angie’s troubles had been suitably drowned, and when Cheek to Cheek began playing Angie had enough liquid courage-or stupidity, she wasn’t sure- to stand up and pull Peggy to her feet. She didn’t have any real reason to want to slow dance with Peggy except the vague: I could die tomorrow, which, to an alcohol fogged brain is the perfect logic to do anything.

 

“Angie, what are you doing,” Peggy asked cautiously. Angie placed Peggy’s left hand on her waist before placing her left hand on Peggy’s waist. She then held Peggy’s right hand in hers. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly began moving and Peggy had no choice but to follow.

 

To a part of Peggy this felt wrong; she hadn’t danced in years and the only person she had wanted to dance with in years was Steve. She felt almost like she was betraying him. However, to another part, it just felt natural to have Angie’s hand on her waist, like its only purpose in life was to be there, heating the skin underneath through the fabric of her clothes. It was so intimate that moment that it almost felt as if they were doing something else; something Peggy refused herself to think about.

 

Their idea of dancing was nothing more than swaying but it was perfect. They never dropped each other’s gaze, and as the song progressed the ended up standing closer and closer to each other until it would have been just so easy to lean in and kiss her.

 

The song ended. The radio announced ‘The Captain America Radio Hour’ but Peggy paid no notice to it. Angie removed her hand from Peggy’s waist and the area where it had been suddenly felt very exposed. Peggy wanted the hand back but she couldn’t voice that desire. Angie took both of Peggy’s hands in hers.

 

“Thanks for everything, English,” Angie said softly, barely above a whisper. She kissed Peggy’s cheek and Peggy leaned into the contact. All Peggy had to do was turn her head….Angie stepped away and left the room. Peggy sat on the couch for a good long moment trying to process what was happening, what had just happened. She had a feeling that what happened would never be talked about and tomorrow Angie would pretend it had never happened.

 

On the radio, Betty Carver screamed for Captain America to save her. Every other thing Peggy felt melted away into just one thing: disgust. Steve hadn’t died to be turned into some money making machine, another part of the consumer society that was being built around them. With an eye roll, she stood up and switched to radio off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, I had exams. Thanks for reading


	7. Chapter 7

Peggy had trained as a codebreaker. For the first months of the war she had spent her days decrypting and decoding enemy communications. It had been hard and it had left her stumped on a few occasions. However, nothing she had ever seen at Bletchley during the war was as enigmatic as Angela Martinelli’s behaviour of the previous night. As she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, it was all she could think about.

 

Angie’s behaviour had been erratic; she had been her normal self and then she had seemed almost withdrawn; which was odd for her. Then the dance; Peggy could still feel the heat of Angie’s hand on her waist and she hated that she had liked it because you weren’t supposed to think of your best friend like that, ever. Peggy chalked Angie’s behaviour down to exhaustion and alcohol; because there was no way free spirited Angie was attracted to someone like her.

 

She succumbed to exhaustion at half three in the morning, thankful that she was under no real obligation to show up to the SSR tomorrow unless they found something. She could have managed the early start but someone may have lost a head throughout the course of the day. However, her dreams of a lie in were dashed when the phone in her room rang at six in the morning. She answered it quickly so the shrill ring wouldn’t wake Angie.

 

“What?” She answered, annoyed, and dispensing with any pleasantries.

 

“Ms Carter, “a male voice said in a mix of surprise and shock. Of course it would be Jarvis, she thought to herself.

 

“Mr Jarvis, do you own a watch,” she retorted.

 

“Yes well, Mr Stark has asked me to do some shopping and I was wondering if you needed anything?”

 

“What could Howard possibly want at six in the morning?” She asked and then made a face,” Actually, don’t answer that.”

 

“Do you require anything, Ms Carter?”

 

“Yes, we seem to have run out of just about everything,” she told him.

 

“Very well. When shall I drop them off?”

 

“Angie has a day off; so whenever you get the chance. Now if you’ll excuse me?”

 

Jarvis wished her a good day and then hung up. Peggy replaced the receiver harshly. She sighed and then groaned to herself; the chances of her falling back asleep were slim. Seeing no point in going back to bed, she went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of strong coffee and almost inhaled it. She then got dressed in a navy shirtwaist dress, applied her eyeliner and lipstick, and styled her hair. She then wrote Angie a note explaining that she was out and would return later. Before going to the SSR she took the subway to the Russian drop box. Their message was still there, which didn’t surprise her; she knew it had been a longshot when she had suggested it. She decided to leave it there anyway. She arrived at the SSR at quarter to nine. Most agents were already reporting to work but there were still some empty desks. Thompson was already there, in his office, along with Klaudia. Peggy made herself some tea before knocking on the door. Thompson waved her in.

 

“You don’t need to be here, Carter,” Thompson reminded her. “We’re dead in the water until we hear back from people. I said I’d-“

 

“Call me,” Peggy finished. “Well we both know how good you are at passing along information.” Thompson shot her a look. “Besides, I was already up.” She turned to Klaudia,” No word from West Germany?”

 

Klaudia shook her head. “The time zones are making it hard, “she told Peggy as the phone rang. “Or maybe we could be lucky, “she remarked as Thompson answered the phone. After a few seconds he handed the receiver to Klaudia. After a few minutes, she told the person on the phone thanks and ended the call.

 

“Everything alright?” Peggy asked, concerned; Klaudia’s tone hadn’t been very optimistic.

 

“My colleagues didn’t get anything new from the prisoners in Germany but shortly after they spoke to him, he killed himself with a cyanide pill.”

 

“So either he had it in his tooth, “Peggy started

 

“Or someone smuggled it in,” Thompson finished. “You know there’s been something bothering me about this whole situation. Why would German bankers fund a Russian program?”

 

“They might be communist supporters, “Peggy suggested. “Or hate America; the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Why, what are you thinking?”

 

“What if they were funding Germans? We never did round up all of the Nazi scientists, did we?”

 

Peggy could feel the headache creeping into her brain already.

 

[x]

 

When Peggy returned home, she caught a whiff of the smell of baking. She yelled she was home and felt a sense of apprehension flitter in her stomach; she didn’t know what mood or form Angie was in, or if she would bring up less night; but if she was baking, Peggy decided she mustn’t be so bad. She stopped by the kitchen on her way to her bedroom and told Angie whatever she was making smelt delicious. Angie thanked her smiling, seeming to have recovered from last night, or at least not acknowledging last night happened. Peggy was almost starting to relax after the morning but that all changed when she saw the blonde sitting on her bed.

 

Dottie Underwood.

 

Peggy’s first instinct was to reach for the gun in her purse but she knew it wouldn’t be any use. By the time she had it out and ready to fire, Dottie would have had enough time to snap her neck. Instead of responding with fear (which she suspected Dottie lived on) she decided to respond with an “I have no time for you” manner. Peggy closed the door and proceeded as if Dottie wasn’t there, which was hard as all Peggy could think about was the fact Dottie had been in the apartment alone with Angie.

 

“Peggy, “Dottie said in her Mid-West accent, “I don’t remember you being so brave.”

 

“Then you clearly don’t have a very good memory, “Peggy retorted, walking into the en suite bathroom and beginning to remove her makeup. “Why are you here?”

 

“We heard about who you have in custody, “Dottie explained. “She’s not worth your time.”

 

This grabbed Peggy’s attention. She moved away from the mirror and stood in the doorway. “Are you saying this because it’s true or because you don’t want me talking to her?”

 

Dottie feigned being offended. “Now, would I lie to you?” Peggy placed one hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Do us both a favour and execute her. Leviathan doesn’t want her.”

 

With that, Dottie stood up with fluidity of snake. Peggy called her back, “How did you find me?”

 

“I’ve been following you, “Dottie said, as if it were a perfectly acceptable hobby for her to have. “Enjoy baking; I never painted you as the domestic type.”

 

Dottie climbed out the window just Peggy’s bedroom door opened without a knock. “What’s taking so long, English?”

 

Peggy cleared her throat and tried her best to smile naturally. “Nothing, darling.” She quickly changed the subject, “Are what you’re making almost done?”

 

“Another 5 minutes, “ Angie said slowly as if she was trying to figure something out. “You sure you’re alright?”

 

“Perfectly fine. I’ll go check on them, shall I?”

 

She left without waiting for an answer.

 

She needed to make sure Angie was safer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And sorry for the delay but I have been very busy this past week. Also, I'm heading to Canada for 3 weeks tomorrow and I won't have access to a computer/laptop. But I promise the second I am back I will upload another chapter


	8. Chapter 8

Despite her previous plans, Peggy didn’t return to the SSR the next day; or the day after that, or the day after that either. Angie had three days off from the diner and Peggy had stayed with her; following her around like a puppy to make sure she was safe. They had gone window shopping with her each other, strolled in the park, and Peggy had escorted Angie to her acting class. It had all been very domestic.

 

It made Peggy feel uneasy. She had never had anything like that before; even in a friendship sense. Making friends as a child had all been controlled by her parents and at boarding school all the girls were living under someone’s thumb. This was all so new and she was afraid of what would happen. If Dottie’s intention had been to place Peggy on the rack it had worked.

 

Now that Angie was back at work, Peggy arrived at the SSR at ten, intent on telling Thompson about Dottie- which she should have done the second Dottie had left- and ask him to help her make sure Angie was safe; she wouldn’t lose her. A part of her was telling her she was over reacting; Dottie had had plenty of time to kill Angie and she hadn’t but she wasn’t taking a chance.

 

Stepping out of the elevator, she was welcomed by the shuffle and hum she had grown used to. No-one paid her any attention as she walked to her desk, except Soussa. He smiled at her and she smiled back as she draped her suit jacket on the back of her chair and locked her purse in her drawer.

 

“More loose ends he asked?” He asked.

 

“Sort of. I have something I need to ask you but I have to speak to Thompson first. Is he out?” She inquired when she saw he wasn’t in his office.

 

“He’s in interrogation, “Soussa answered. “The woman from Germany too.”

 

“If you’ll excuse me, “ she said and left the bullpen. She knew she had been gone three days but Thompson had told her he would call her and she didn’t remember phone calls being so hard to make. There was an Agent guarding interrogation but he stood aside when he saw her approaching. She slipped into the observation room.

 

The prisoner was handcuffed to the table, wearing the same style of jumpsuit she had arrived in, or it could have been the same one, Peggy didn’t know. Thompson was sitting across from her while Klaudia was leaning on the wall behind her. She was staring directly at Thompson, a small smile on her lips. She reminded Peggy of a Russian winter; cruel and dangerous.

 

“I asked for Agent Carter, “ the woman said in an accent that sound exactly like Dottie’s. Peggy assumed this had been going on for a while.

 

“She’s not available right now,” Thompson answered,” but if you tell us what you want with her then maybe I can get her down here.”

 

“That won’t work, Thompson”, Peggy said to the air around her as the prisoner countered, “She comes here and then I will talk.”

 

Thompson’s games weren’t going to break her; it wouldn’t break any Russian Agents. Those women were put through hell before they were deployed on the field; an interrogation wouldn’t even make them break a sweat. Thompson putting on a black leather glove and beating her to pulp wouldn’t break her. They reminded Peggy of programmed machines.

 

“What does Leviathan want with German bankers?” Klaudia asked.

 

“What do people usually want with bankers, “the prisoner retorted.

 

“Let me rephrase; with bankers with connections to the Nazi government? You two weren’t friends.”

 

“I will only speak with Agent Carter, “the prisoner repeated. She fixed her gaze on the back wall and started singing quietly. Peggy didn’t catch the words but the tune was haunting and it was making her skin crawl. She tried to tune it out.

 

Peggy knew Nazi scientists had defected to the Russians like some had defected to the States; however they still didn’t have clear numbers or what these scientist were experts in; conventional warfare, nuclear warfare, bio-warfare, body enhancements. All of it was a possibility and meant a threat to the US. However, the thing most on Peggy’s mind was why the Russian agent had effectively given herself up. She could have escaped in Europe; she could probably escape that very interrogation if she wanted, which still begged the question: why was she still here?

 

The Russian began repeating the song and Thompson was preparing to leave. Deciding it was a good time to make her presence known and to try and find answers; she left the observation room and entered the interrogation room without knocking.

 

“You wanted me and now you have me. What you have to say better be bloody worth it, “she said by way of her entrance. Thompson looked at her but didn’t say anything.

 

The Russian’s smile was predator like. “I knew you would come.”

 

“What does Leviathan want?” Peggy demanded, standing beside Thompson on his left side.

 

“I was sent to make a trade,” the Russian finally revealed.

 

“For what?” Thompson asked

 

“Who, “the prisoner corrected. She fixed her stare on Peggy and began speaking in Russian. Thompson glanced at Peggy’s facial expression trying to gather her reaction but her face remained blank. Then the Russian finished talking and the room fell silent.

 

Then almost like she was in a daze, Peggy reached over the table and slapped the prisoner across the cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thabks for your patience, you guys are all awesome. Hope you enjoy this chapter and please drop me line telling me what you think


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and tell me what you think

There were many different types of anger; lower scale such as annoyance which Peggy felt on a near daily basis working at the SSR. Then there was the more dangerous kind, where all the negative emotions peak all at once, almost leaving you numb. She had learned during the war that the worst kind of burn that a person could sustain was a burn so bad that they didn’t feel anything because the nerves were damaged beyond repair. The worst flame off a Bunsen burner wasn’t the blue, but the one so clear that you can’t see it all. You don’t know it’s there until you put your hand right through it, or someone forces your hand through it. The Russian had pushed her into it.

 

The room fell silent, Peggy’s shaky breath the only faint sound. Thompson had jumped from his chair and was watching her with a cautious eye; he didn’t fancy another broken nose. Klaudia had pushed herself off the wall and her focus was on Peggy’s hand. A smile spread slowly on the Russians face and the she was laughing. It was a taunt.

 

Peggy’s hand clenched into another fist. She didn’t like being goaded and it was in her nature to have the last laugh, last word, to feel some sense of triumph over an enemy. When she was a child she had broken her cousin’s nose after he said she would never get anywhere because, “Boys are better than girls.” Her parents had quickly decided to send her to boarding school but she had shown her cousin and she would show Leviathan that she wasn’t somebody to mess with. If the Russian was telling the truth she would rescue Steve and blow wherever they were keeping him to the ground.

 

“I was expecting you’d have a temper, “the Russian told her, and then titled her head to the side, almost amused.

 

“Oh, I’m just getting started, “Peggy threatened. “By the time I’m finished with you and Russia, Stalin will wish he had stayed in whatever hole he climbed out of.”

 

The Russian giggled, a sound Peggy was sure would haunt her nightmares. She was so tempted to choke the giggle from the Russian’s mouth and it would be easy but something stopped her; the voice of a strong and beautiful Italian- American telling her, “This ain’t you, Peg.”  It was quickly joined by the sweet voice of a skinny kid from Brooklyn. The two people that she held the closest to her heart, bringing her back from the edge.

 

“Carter, sit down, “Thompson ordered.

 

“Actually I have all I need at the moment.” She placed her hands on the table and leaned closer to the prisoner. “As for you, I should wager the next chair you’ll see shall have an electric current running through it.”

 

She stood back up and glanced briefly to Thompson before she left closing the door behind her. She headed for the exit, forgetting about her suit jacket; she needed to leave. She felt like crying when she reached the lobby but she didn’t fancy crying in the bathroom like someone whose high school boyfriend had just broken up with them. So she kept walking out into the street and let herself get swallowed up in the crowd.

 

How could someone’s biggest wish also seem like their worst nightmare? She didn’t understand it, any of it. What was it the Russian had said again? “We have something you want. He disappeared just over a year ago; carries a shield.” Peggy had slapped her at that precise moment. Anger had consumed her, anger at the prisoner, at the SSR, at herself, at the universe, and at Steve for not giving her his goddamn coordinates.

 

She ended up at the Automat.

 

Angie was behind the counter, tapping her pencil on the counter top absent minded. She did a double take when she Peggy-it was way too early for Peggy to be here for lunch- but she smiled at her regardless. Peggy sat on a stool.

 

“Everything alright, English, “Angie asked concerned.

 

Peggy opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. She couldn’t tell Angie the truth (which did eat away at her) and she couldn’t think of a credible lie at the moment. “Something happened at work, “she said simply.

 

“Geez, Peg, no-one died on the job again, did they? Because-

 

“No, not anything like that; it’s just something reminded me how much easier my life would have been had I stayed in England.”

 

“Yeah but then you wouldn’t have met me, “Angie said with a wink. “Look I have the afternoon off for an audition but how about we go window shopping instead?”

 

“You can’t miss an audition, “Peggy protested.

 

Angie shrugged. “You’re more important than some audition, “she told Peggy, with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be done in two hours.”

 

Peggy told her she didn’t mind waiting and was searching for something else to talk about when the cook called “Order up.” Angie sighed and turned to pick up the plate of food. Peggy smiled at her although she didn’t really feel it; yet she did feel better than she had been She remembered she hadn’t told Thompson about Dottie or keeping Angie safer.

 

She couldn’t lose Angie.


	10. Chapter 10

Peggy felt like she was back in the principal’s office after the time she had been caught smuggling alcohol into boarding school after Christmas break. The principal was a woman whose favourite tactic to get her students to confess and apologise was to sit in silence until the pressure became too much for whatever teenage girl was in there. The silence had been extremely disconcerting but Peggy had prided herself on the fact she had only confessed when her principal told her that if she did, she wouldn’t be expelled.

 

The same heavy silence as that day 12 years ago now hung in Thompson’s office, like thick July humidity that New York was notorious for. She had come to talk about Dottie and Angie’s safety but Thompson had ambushed her, brought her into his office and said: I don’t care that you hit the Russian, I just want to know why.” She had rolled her eyes at him and took up a vigil at the window-which she still kept- watching a city that had come so close to destruction go about its daily life.

 

“Dottie Underwood found me the other day, “she told him, casting a glance at him over her shoulder. He removed his feet from the desk and sat up straighter. “She was waiting for me when I got home. I don’t think Angie is safe and-“

 

“And you want, what, a detail on her? I’ll tell you what, Carter, you tell me what I want to know and you can have Soussa and another agent.” He gestured to a chair and Peggy sat down, feeling like a criminal trying to cut a deal to stay alive.

 

Klaudia left for Germany later that afternoon and the next day- after they had gotten all the required information from the Russian prisoner- Peggy decided to go it alone after Thompson made it clear he wasn’t authorising a rescue mission. So, when he had been distracted by another agent, she had copied all the necessary information, faked a headache, took the subway home, and called Howard. Everything was going to plan until she heard the front door open and Angie’s voice calling out: “Peg, you home?”

 

[x]

 

“If you leave, English, don’t bother coming back.”

 

Angie left and Peggy felt like a carpet was being pulled from underneath her. At that moment she didn’t feel like she was living; she felt trapped in that place between heaven and hell that always manages to screw everybody over.

 

It was the old saying: You don’t realise what you have until it’s gone and now that she was losing her Peggy was crystal about what she felt for Angela Martinelli. Peggy loved her; god strike her down and set her soul on fire; she loved her. She dried her tears; it wasn’t going to end like this. She found Angie in the main hallway, key in the door.  “Please don’t leave me, “Peggy begged. “Please don’t.”

 

Angie gently shook her head and turned around; tears glistening in her eyes. “I can’t hate you, English. I always knew your work would come first.”

 

“Darling, please-“Peggy started.

 

“But I can’t do this, Peg; your world is so much bigger than mine.” She closed the distance between them. She traced Peggy’s jawline with her fingertips and leaned in. She brushed her lips gently against Peggy’s but pulled back all too quickly. “Go save the world, tiger, “she whispered, “but I ain’t gonna stay around and watch it all to go to hell.”

 

Angie walked away and opened the door, hesitated and turned around for one last look at the fearless British warrior she had almost called hers. “It was real nice knowing ya, English.”

 

She closed the door behind her.

 

Peggy’s world had never felt so alone and quiet.

 

Jarvis collected her in one of Howard’s less fancy cars. She opened the door before he finished knocking, duffel bag in hand, emotions in check, and her face blank. She threw her back into the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat. Jarvis started the car and thankfully didn’t try and make conversation. No doubt Howard had told him all that was happening. The drive to Howard’s mansion on Long Island seemed to take entirely too long.

 

When they arrived, Howard was waiting for them in the front hall. Peggy breezed past him and into the drawing room. She cleared a space on the table, moving the cigar box, ashtray and a stack of books which horrified Jarvis who was a firm believer in the notion that everything had its own place and shouldn’t be moved. Howard stopped him from saying anything because he recognised the look on Peggy’s face; a mix of determination and rage that screamed she wasn’t to be interrupted.

 

She turned to Howard. “I’m going to need a map of Switzerland, your plane, and access to one of your Swiss bank accounts.”

 

Howard didn’t ask questions; he would give Peggy whatever she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and let me know what you think


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this update is so late but I recently just started college and things have been hectic with moving and settling in and classes and stuff but thank you so much for your patience; your support means so much to me. Without further ado…….

Peggy was somewhere over the Atlantic ocean in one of Howard’s planes. He was piloting the aircraft while Jarvis was co-piloting so Peggy was in the back alone with only the silence and her own consuming guilt to keep her company. She had ruined everything; smashed it like hitting a pane of glass with a hammer and she was now trying to walk over the broken pieces while trying not to bleed. She had hurt the one person she had sworn to protect, to keep safe. That’s what destroyed her the most: the fact that she had been the one to break Angie’s heart, like she was just ripping a piece of paper up.

 

 _At least you found out she liked you back,_ a cruel part of her said. Peggy’s mother had been right: being unmarried by your late twenties would only bring trouble. She had been so close to happiness but in true Margaret Carter fashion she had gone and screwed it up, like many situations in her life she snatched defeat from the jaws of victory and this was just another time to add to the ever growing list. She was beginning to get weary of it but she always did it just the same; it was almost like she was afraid of being happy, that she felt like she didn’t deserve it.

 

She didn’t regret undertaking this mission though, she just regretted the way things transpired but not the fact she had decided to see it through to the end. If there was any chance Steve was alive, she needed to find out for herself, she didn’t like ambiguity.  Steve who just wanted to help people, Steve who had wanted to make the world safer for people who were like him before he went into the pod, the Steve that wouldn’t stop to find her if things had been the other way around. She owed it to him.

 

“Are you alright, Ms Carter?” Jarvis asked. It was then she registered the moisture on her cheeks and she quickly wiped the tears away with the back of her sleeve but not before Jarvis saw them. He wordlessly handed her half an orange which she accepted with a grateful glance.

 

She popped a wedge in her mouth before answering. “Honestly?” Jarvis nodded. “No. I’m not alright at all, Mr Jarvis.”

 

“Do you wish to discuss it?”

 

She cast a side look at him (when have I ever discussed my problems?) Jarvis nodded once and chewed a wedge of the citrus fruit. “How much further,” she asked.

 

“Another four hours,” he answered and then added, “I’m afraid you and your demons still have a quite a lot of time together.” With one last concerned look, he stood up and walked back to the cockpit. Peggy sighed and finished her orange half, focusing on the bitterness and the way it almost burnt her tongue. Usually on the plane she would review blueprints and plans and mission notes but she didn’t have any of that. She had herself, a set of co-ordinates, a womanising billionaire and a British butler who meant well. She didn’t even have weapons; she was relying on Stark’s Swiss bank account to get them.

 

What the hell was she thinking? The answer was clear: she wasn’t. She was acting on impulse and a sense of loyalty which one might call noble but it wasn’t smart.  She closed her eyes and leant her head against the metal. It was a child’s wish but maybe when she woke up she would be back in New York, getting ready to face the day listening to Angie softly sing in the kitchen.

 

She woke up to Jarvis gently shaking her shoulder. “We are about to land, Ms Carter.”

 

She nodded and sat up straight to prepare herself for the descent. They had found a private airstrip roughly thirty miles away from where the co-ordinates said the Leviathan base was. The owner hadn’t asked any questions but he charged a lot of money for that fact.

 

Peggy had been to Switzerland twice before. She had told Angie about her time spent there one night (omitting the parts that were classified by the British government) describing the mountains and the clean air, a fa cry from the city Angie had always been surrounded by. When Peggy had finished, Angie had promised: “When I make it English, I’m gonna see Europe and you’re coming with me.” Peggy could have kissed her right then, sitting on Peggy’s bed at the Griffith hotel. It made Peggy laugh how Ms Fry had been so concerned about men above the first floor when she had a hotel full of women and Peggy was sure she and Angie weren’t the only two women who had been attracted to each other while there.

 

The plane landed with a jolt and Peggy gripped the seat hard. She looked out the window but couldn’t see much of the scenery she had fallen in love with. The plane began to taxi to the hangar. “Uh, Ms Carter, “Jarvis called. “We have a problem.”

 

“What? You don’t have the money to pay the operator, “she said sarcastically as she stood up to make her way to the cockpit. She stood in the space between the two pilot’s seats and looked out the windshield. They were stopped a distance from the hangar and parked in front of it was a black Citroen car.

 

Leaning on the bonnet was Agent Stein, arms folded across her chest.

 

**New York, same day, eight am**

The Russian was shackled, with restraints around her wrists and ankles. She was surrounded by four armed guards, two on either side of her. She was to be transported to a maximum security federal prison where she would await execution. She didn’t mind the fact she was going to die; she had done job to lead Agent Carter nicely into the spider’s web Leviathan had set for her.

 

Dying was just last the part of her mission, the last part of her duty to her country.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry you guys but uni has become a pain and my workload like basically doubled over night but I hope you enjoy this chapter

**Private airfield, eastern Switzerland:**

“Should we offer Ms Carter some assistance?” Jarvis asked Howard, attention fully on the western movie type standoff happening in front of his eyes. He could see Peggy’s muscles were tense, she was in her fighting stance, ready and prepared for anything. The ginger women had her arms folded across her chest, a stance someone could mistake as being casual but Peggy had told Jarvis and Howard about Agent Stein and Jarvis knew that she was also prepared for anything.

 

“Peggy can take care of herself, “Howard said. “If more people arrive then we panic.”

 

Jarvis nodded but his bosses words did nothing to assuage the anxiety bubbling up within him like a fizzy drink; he was already worried and panicked; he had been since Peggy asked him to pick her up from the penthouse yesterday; although it had escalated quickly since then. Peggy had been sketchy on particulars; all he knew was that he was on a mission to save Captain America but he didn’t from whom or where they were hoping to save him from. Mr Stark hadn’t believed the man dead and maybe there was finally going to be some truth to that. However he wasn’t going to hold his breath, the people who had Captain America- if they had him- weren’t going to give him up easily.

 

“Are they saying anything?”

 

“Hell if I know, “Howard answered, trying to feign normality but he was nervously tapping his fingers against his thighs.

 

Outside the plane, the air between the two women was thick with uncertainty and potential energy. They had their eyes firmly on each other and it didn’t stretch Peggy’s mind to imagine them turning their backs on each other and pulling out revolvers from hip holsters. “Are you here to arrest me, Agent Stein?”

 

Eyebrows raised, Klaudia shook her head. She unfolded her arms and let her arms drop by her side. She didn’t know what was going on, she had been confused the moment the Leviathan agent opened her mouth but it seemed a lot had happened in the short space of the time she had been back in Europe. It was hard for her to believe this had all happened in less than two weeks but it always seemed to be that way: things went to hell quickly and took years to make right. Klaudia had gotten involved in something way over her head and she wanted to be done with it, and while she could legally take Agent Carter into custody, doing so would mean throwing herself back into what she wanted to be finished with.

 

“Thompson sent me. He said: ‘Be in and out by three am Saturday’.”

 

“What’s happening at three am?”

 

Klaudia shrugged her shoulders and walked away.

 

**New York,**

 

Angie was in a funk, and all of her co-workers could see it. Her side comments had become less sarcastic and more biting and she didn’t hum on her breaks anymore. One of Angie’s old friends from the Griffith had moved into her own apartment and she had slept on her couch last night and would be sleeping there again tonight. Angie had had a life plan and then Peggy came and left and turned her life into a spinning top. It was hard for Angie to look up and to see Peggy’s usual booth filled with strangers. The automat just didn’t seem right without her, New York didn’t seem right without her. It sounded melodramatic but she had gotten so use to a particular daily habit and now it was all out of whack.

 

She needed a change, a real change. It was clear The Big Apple was just too sour for her.

 

A customer called for her attention and she was tempted to ignore them but she couldn’t add losing her job to the growing list of things that were going wrong for her. She picked up her notepad and pencil and tried her best to appear cheery as she walked over to the booth at the back. “What can I get for ya?” She asked not bothering to look up from her notepad.

 

“Coffee,” the man answered and Angie’s demeanour changed; she recognised the voice. She lifted her eyes and saw a crutch leaning against the chair and then the not unkind face of Agent Soussa. She rolled her eyes; the last thing she wanted to deal with today was the SSR but she could tell the Agent wasn’t going to let her just walk away. Angie called to one of the other waitresses that she was taking a two minute break.

 

“What do you want, G-man?” She asked.

 

“Has you noticed Peggy acting odd lately?”

 

Angie had to stop herself from laughing; if she hadn’t wanted to deal with the SSR today, she most certainly didn’t want to deal with the SSR asking questions about Peggy; the woman who had broken her heart. However, Soussa couldn’t know about that so instead she shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t really talked to her that much the past couple of days. I’ve been pretty busy.”

 

“Yeah, this place is really hoping, “Soussa commented dryly. There were only eight other customers and two other waitresses.

 

“Yeah well, G-man, some of us can’t just take all day with our breaks,” she said as stood up. “Did you really want coffee?”

 

He shook his head and used the table to lean on as he stood up. He placed his arm in his crutch. “If you notice anything-“

 

“Well that’d be real hard, seeing as she has been sent god knows where.”

 

“What?” Soussa said stunned.

 

“Blondie didn’t tell ya, huh? Buy something or leave, “she told him and then returned to the counter.

 

“Everything ok, Angie?” Another waitress, Ellen, asked as she returned with an empty plate for the kitchen.

 

“Fine, “Angie replied but Ellen saw through it.

 

“Tough week?” She prodded and Angie nodded. “I know how you feel, sweetie. My sister, in LA, just got a part in some movie and I’m here with that pig,” she gestured to a man sitting by the door, “Sickening, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, “ she answered but her mind was already elsewhere, imagining herself on set, with people fawning over her costumes and make up, where she would finally get to show the world what Angela Martinelli had to offer, a land where camera flashes blinded her.

 

Beside her, Ellen, grabbed the coffee pot and made her way around Angie back to the floor. Before she was out of earshot Angie asked her, “Think you could ask your sister how she managed to get a movie role, for me?”

 

Ellen nodded.

 

Maybe a change of place is what she needed; and maybe that place could be L.A

 

Soussa entered Thompson’s office without knocking and didn’t pull any punches. “Where did you send her?”

 

“It’s classified, Soussa,” Thompson answered without looking up from his stack of papers.

 

“That’s crap, Thompson, “Soussa told him pointedly and Thompson was surprised; he must really care for her, he thought to himself. Sighing he told Soussa to close the door ad sit down. He complied.

 

“Firstly, I didn’t send her anywhere, she took the co-ordinates and decided to go. “

 

“Go where?” He was starting to get even more impatient.

 

“Switzerland.”

 

“What’s in Switzerland?”

 

“What I tell you now, doesn’t leave this room, understood?”

 

Soussa nodded. Thompson started at the beginning, from the call from West Germany right up to when Peggy took the co-ordinates and contacted Howard Stark, even the bit about Captain America. Soussa’s eyes were wide by the end and it took him a couple of tries to make construct a sentence. “All she has is Stark and his Butler?”

 

“Looks like it.”

 

“Can’t we send backup?”

 

“This mission hasn’t been sanctioned and we’re infringing on another Agency’s jurisdiction. If people find out Carter is there, she’ll lose her job and so will I.”

 

“It’s better than her being dead, isn’t it?” Soussa  countered.

 

“You and I know both know she won’t see it that way.” Thompson said. Soussa wanted to say Thompson was wrong but he couldn’t. Peggy had a ‘dog with a bone’ personality which was both a strength and weakness. However, they both knew, that with Captain America in the mix, nothing short of a bullet in the head would stop her.

 

“There’s something else isn’t there?”Soussa asked.

 

“The mission mightn’t have been sanctioned but an air strike on the co-ordinates was.”

 

“What? Are you crazy? Before or after you knew she went in there?”

 

“It had been sanctioned since I told the brass that we might be able to acquire the location of a Leviathan base. I just needed to tell them where. I didn’t think they’d schedule for one so soon but there was a change in the weather and it’s happening early Saturday morning.”

 

“That gives her little under three days, Jack. That’s not enough time! Does she know?”

 

“I contacted someone to give her word but I haven’t heard from them yet.”

 

Soussa shook his head and left with a mix of worry and disgust on his face. He left the office, banging the door hut behind him. Thompson slid down slightly in his seat. He knew how this whole situation looked and he knew it wouldn’t tax Soussa to imagine him purposely putting Peggy in harm’s way but it wasn’t like that. He cared for his Agents and he didn’t want any of them getting hurt but despite the praise he had received for foiling the Leviathan gas attack, he was still new and he wanted to prove he could get results, to prove he could do this job as well as Chief Dooley could.

 

He glanced over at Peggy’s desk. She was smart and resourceful, she could come out of this alive.

 

Couldn’t she?


	13. Chapter 13

**Leviathan Base, Eastern Switzerland:**

 

Most people would call the room in the basement a torture chamber but Dottie and the Leviathan scientists weren’t most people. They didn’t see the scalpel and needles and the concoctions of drugs and chemical mixtures an solutions as barbaric torture devices but more scientific tools and devices on the journey of human advancement and Russia’s dominance on the world stage, because after all, they had been left on their own for so many years at the start of World War Two, it was only right that America feel the same defencelessness.

 

But, first, it was Peggy Carter’s turn, for making Russia look foolish.

 

Dottie, of course, agreed with these views, or rather it was the only view she had ever been exposed to, but her time in America had not changed it. She despised how they all ran around like mice, or dogs trying to catch their own tails. The whole country sickened her. She sat in the corner of the laboratory, her orders to make sure the subject didn’t try to harm any of the scientists but so far she wasn’t needed; the scientist had figured out a way of keeping him silent and compliant.

 

So she passed her time by assembling and disassembling her pistol and dreaming of the moment she finally killed Peggy Carter.

 

**En route to a safe house, Eastern Switzerland:**

They sat in heavy silence; Howard and Jarvis in the front, Peggy in the back. She stared out the window at the scenery rolling by but her gaze was unfocused and she didn’t try to find solid shapes in the blur of colours that went past her. She was thinking about everything and nothing, feeling everything and nothing and she hated the feeling that was creeping through her blood; the feeling of uncertainty, the feeling of failure.

 

To say she didn’t handle those feelings well, would be an understatement. They terrified her; and they were only things she felt at that moment in time. Uncertainty at what Klaudia meant, what her motives were; was there a genuine threat forming the basis of words, was something really going to happen at three am Saturday? Or was she just trying to stop Peggy from completing her mission, or was she trying to dissuade her from even trying?

 

The car came to a stop and Jarvis got out to open a set of gates. They drove up a country lane, with grass growing up the middle of it that dissected a forest in half. The forest eventually cleared giving way to a white brick chateau, which Howard revealed he thought “would be bigger”. She didn’t pay much attention to the house (mansion) itself, eye focusing instead on the man standing outside of it.

 

“Who’s that?” She asked sitting forward.

 

“He works here, “Howard told her.

 

“Get rid of him, “she ordered.

 

“Jarvis, get rid of him, “Howard passed the order on and Peggy rolled her eyes. Jarvis gave a quiet sigh but got out of the car and sent the man away. Peggy waited until the man had driven away before getting out of the car. She took a deep breath of clean air and surveyed her surroundings. The house was large and surrounded on the sides she could by forest (she would check the back of the house later). It had two stories, not too man windows, and by the looks of its age probably a wine cellar too. The house itself was also far from the main road, which Peggy liked. Jarvis retrieved their bags and she and Howard followed him inside.

 

“Tell me, Howard, who did you say owned this house again?” Peggy asked as she tilted her head back to look at the chandelier. The interior was very impressive, with a black and white tiled marble tiled floor and a very grand staircase. It was almost shame they wouldn’t be there very for long. Jarvis insisted on carrying her bag to her room so she followed him upstairs. There wasn’t a shortage of rooms so she had her pick and she choose one midway between the stairs and the end of the hall. He handed her the bag once they reached the room and she thanked him. He seemed like he wanted to say something but he thought better of it and he walked away without a word. She opened the door and was immediately struck by the size and splendour of the room, fancier than her room back in New York.

 

She immediately regretted thinking of that.

 

She sighed in frustration and muttered “bloody hell” as she dropped her bag by the door. There was only one place this thought process could lead; Angie. Peggy plopped down on the four poster bed. She didn’t cry; she didn’t feel like she had the right to be sad, not after walking out on Angie, so she just allowed herself to sit there, in silence, listing and cataloguing everything she sacrificed.

 

There was a knock on the door.

 

“Come in,” she called and stood up.

 

Howard entered and when he didn’t say anything immediately she sat back down on the bed. Howard sat beside her.

 

“Don’t go getting any funny ideas, “she told him, but it was mostly an attempt to lighten the mood. Howard seemed serious and she didn’t like it, it didn’t feel right.

 

“Peggy, “he started and she internally flinched at his sombre tone, “I’m not good at these things, I’ve never been where you are-“

 

“Howard,” she attempted to cut him off; she didn’t want to hear this, not now.

 

“No, Peggy, I want to say this. You’ve got many qualities I lack, all good qualities, noble qualities. They’re something to be proud of, but they can be dangerous. They can consume you

 

“Do you have point to this, Howard?” She cut him off, with annoyance in her voice. She wanted him to stop, she didn’t want kindness.

 

“I’m getting there, give me a minute. Look, your loyalty is admirable, but you can walk away.”

 

“I can’t, you know I can’t, “Peggy said told him.

 

“Can’t or won’t? “ Howard asked. “Steve wouldn’t want-“

 

“Steve, “ she repeated standing up and putting distance between them, “Sacrificed himself for us and his country and if there is any chance I can give him the life he should have, the life he gave up, I will do it. Now get out.”

 

He did, without protest.

 

Once the door was closed, she picked up a vase from the dressing table and threw it at the wall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay but college work just piled up and I decided wait until my classes for the semester were finished before writing and uploading again....but I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but I got a job over Christmas and I really needed the money; but anyway I hope you enjoy the new chapter and thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented and left kudos so far, it means so much to me

Peggy heard the sound of a motor being started and a car being driven away. Standing from the bed, she went to the window and looked out. The car they had taken here was still parked where they had left it but she had no doubt there had been another car on the property somewhere that was now gone. She dropped her head and turned away. Howard had come on his own volition, if he wanted to leave it was his choice; it just made everything that much more impossible. Maybe his speech had some truth in it; she hadn’t let him finish his sentence about Steve but she had good idea what he was trying to say: _Steve wouldn’t want you throwing your life away like this._ And even though apart of her knew this to be true, she just couldn’t leave him, she couldn’t. Colonel Phillips had once told her that her loyalty and stubbornness would one day kill her.

 

Her room felt too small for her, like the walls were closing in.

 

She found herself in the mansion’s gardens, hoping that the air would help clear her head, that with every exhale her troubles would slowly leave her and leave her feeling lighter. But while the garden was peaceful, it was also very quiet and with no noise to distract her, her plan had the opposite effect. Staring blankly at a flower whose name she didn’t know her mind got lost in the past.

 

“Ms Carter, “at the sound of her name she took one last look at the flower and turned around. Jarvis was standing on the top of the steps that led to the garden. “I’ve made some soup if you would like some?”

 

Peggy wanted to say no, she wasn’t in the mood for human company but at the mention of food, her stomach rumbled. She accepted his offer, joining him at a small wooden table in the kitchen. The soup was nice, as nice as soup could ever be, but she felt something off about the situation. Jarvis’ body language told her he was nervous –which was understandable- but he was unusually quiet. As she ate another spoonful, she realised that Howard had probably mentioned their fight to his butler and that Jarvis was trying to summon up the will to say something to her. She dropped her spoon, rather ungracefully, into her bowl causing a few drops to land on the table. Jarvis looked at the drops than at her.

 

“Is there something you want to say to me?” She asked outright.

 

“Um, no,” he tried to lie to which he earned a raised eyebrow from her. “Well, Ms Carter, I was wondering if you have a plan about how we are to rescue Captain Rogers?”

 

“I’m meeting with a contact to find weapons later tonight. Once I know what I have to work with it, I’ll figure out a plan.”

 

“Have you thought about calling reinforcements?”

 

“Like who? The Howling Commandoes?” She asked like it was the most illogical thing to have ever crossed his mind but, in truth, she had thought of trying to get their help too but knew it was never going to happen. They had to be requested through official channels after a mission had been sanctioned and she currently had no official channels or sanctioned mission.

 

Jarvis didn’t take her dismissive tone well. “Ms Carter, you have no plan, no one besides Mr Stark and myself, and you don’t seem to be taking any of our suggestions seriously. Are you sure this is a good idea?” She opened her mouth to speak but he didn’t let her get a word in edgeways. “Have you thought about what is going to happen after this mission? What if you end up in prison? What if you die? Did you think about how that would affect myself or Mr Stark? What about the affect your death would have on Ms Martinelli?”

 

She wanted to yell at him to leave Angie out of things but as much as she wanted to vocalise a sentence she couldn’t. All she could do was stare at him. She had never seen him like this, heard him speak this way before; if his anger and bluntness hadn’t been directed at her she might have even been impressed by him. But it was all directed at her and it immediately but her on the defensive. She stood up, feeling the need to be taller than him.

 

Her response to his rant was one simple question: “Mr Jarvis, if you were in my position and you had the chance to save Anna, would you do it?”

 

She didn’t wait for an answer.

 

**Leviathan Base, Eastern Switzerland:**

Dottie stood to attention in Colonel Rudnikov’s office. This wasn’t the first time she had been summoned to his office but this time felt different, like something was going to happen, the moment of suspension before a ball fell back to the ground.

 

“At ease, “he told her but didn’t invite her to sit. “How are things in the basement progressing?”

 

“Very well, the first phase is almost complete.”

 

“Excellent. I have decided to move everything to Poland.”

 

“And our plan for Peggy Carter,” she asked him, careful not to overstep.

 

“Will go ahead as planned; you will remain here with a small contingent of men to personally see she is disposed of.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The Colonel dismissed her and she returned to her post in the basement. Their experiment was currently asleep, or sedated, she didn’t know which one, and the scientists were in a corner discussing in low tones. She walked over to the test subject and stared at him.

 

“Soon,” she told him. “So very, very soon.”


	15. Chapter 15

Spending time with Jarvis cooped up in one room was like trying to breathe clean air in a broom closet filled with acrid smoke. They were waiting in hotel room of a small family run affair waiting until the time Peggy was due to meet her weapon selling contact. Peggy was sitting on the bed, back to the headboard, ankles crossed, watching as Jarvis alternated between pacing, sitting at the desk, and opening the window to look out and close it again two minutes later. It was driving her crazy. When Jarvis settled himself at the desk again, Peggy picked up the piece of paper that she had drawn a rough sketch of the house Leviathan were using as their base based off the description the man at the reception gave her.

 

According to him, the house had been previously owned by the daughter of an old-money family and her husband. The house supposedly had a history behind it and the grounds surrounding it were absolutely exquisite that the couple used to open the house up to the public on occasion in the summer. Then the house was sold before the outbreak of the war when the couple moved to America and it was abandoned until six months ago. He still remembered the house from when he took his daughters the last summer before it was sold and he described the interior to her as she pretended to find it interesting for non-strategic reasons. It was not unlike the house Peggy, Jarvis, and Howard (if he came back) were currently staying in: with a wine cellar, a basement, a ground floor with a drawing room and dining room, and a first floor with bedrooms, and a study. It was surrounded by a stone wall which a gate to the south allowed access to a stream.

 

It was vague enough, but it was all she had.

 

“Ms Carter, I’m going for a walk,” Jarvis declared, standing up. She stared at him as if the power of her gaze alone would root him to the spot.

 

“You can’t,” she said simply. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off, “There could be Russian spies.”

 

“We went to the bank,” he countered. She rolled her eyes as she remembered their encounter with the teller; he had asked them if they were a married couple. Jarvis had corrected him quickly but he definitely looked as embarrassed and awkward as she had felt.

 

Her mood quickly sobered again. “A trip that was necessary to make. I’m sorry, Mr Jarvis, but I won’t ruin the risk of anyone seeing us if it’s avoidable.” She looked at him again, silently asking ‘please’ but also telling him it wasn’t negotiable. He sat back down and she felt a pang of guilt travel through her chest. He had been right all those weeks ago when he had told her no-one could do it alone-that didn’t mean she was no longer reluctant to ask for help, she was stubborn after all- and despite her walls and her defences and her default distrust he had proven himself time and time again, proven his loyalty. She didn’t want to lose that. Quickly glancing at his annoyed form and back at her rough sketch, she picked up the piece of paper and swung her legs off the bed. She walked over to him and placed the paper on the desk, sliding it along the wood until it was in front of him. He turned his head towards her. “What’s this?” She tilted her head down to make eye contact with him and placed her right hand on her hip, the left one on the desk. “If you had to break in here, how would you do it?” His mood changed and as his focus switched to the sketch she had a feeling their friendship would mend.

 

 

Peggy spotted her contact at the back of the restaurant hidden in a shadowy corner. It wasn’t that hard to find him, he always occupied the same spot in any restaurant he met people in. Jarvis followed her, carrying the money with him in a briefcase. When they reached the table, Peggy took the seat that faced out onto the floor beside her contact and Jarvis took the seat that faced him. Her contact eyed Jarvis with suspicion but didn’t make a comment.

 

He addressed Peggy in German. “What are you looking for?”

 

She responded in German. “Weapons, “she said dryly.

 

He smiled at her, a small twitch of his lips that was almost invisible. “What kind?”

 

“What do you have?” She asked. He began listing off different types of guns –rifles and pistols-, knives, and grenades. She told him what she wanted and he nodded his head in approval. He told Peggy and Jarvis to follow him. Jarvis didn’t seem like he was going to budge. She cleared her throat at him but he didn’t even flinch. She kicked him on the ankle and cocked her head to the left, gesturing in the direction of the exit. After a few long seconds, he moved. He allowed her to pass and walk in front of him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him slip a butter knife up his sleeve.

 

 

“Where are we going?” She asked as they stopped at outside the hotel. Her contact tapped the side of his nose and rocked on his heels. Jarvis took a step closer to her and she touched his wrist, hoping he would get the message to not get any closer. Headlights appeared and a car came to a stop in front of them. Her contact gestured at the back of the car. She nodded and placed a hand on Jarvis’ back to make sure he got in as well. Her contact got in the front and they began driving. They stopped roughly twenty minutes later- that’s what Peggy calculated in her head- half way down a side road. A very dark side road. Peggy’s adrenaline levels began to rise and before she had extended her open palm in a silent question for the knife Jarvis had taken, he was already handing it to her. Her contact and his driver both turned on flashlights.

They both exited the vehicle and Peggy followed suit, placing the knife in her handbag. Jarvis joined them a few seconds later. In front of them was another car and her contact walked to it while his driver made sure Peggy and Jarvis stayed where they were. He returned a few minutes later with a duffle which he handed to Peggy. She checked the contents and nodded to Jarvis to hand over the money. Her contact counted the Swiss Francs and then nodded.

He spoke in German again. “Always a pleasure. My driver will take you back to the hotel.” He turned from them and got into the front seat of the other car.

 

 

Peggy and Jarvis were back at the house by eleven o’clock but Howard hadn’t returned yet. She could see Jarvis’ concern for the inventor and she wished could she could go back and stop the whole argument from ever happening. However, the only thing she could do was give him the offer of a drink. He declined and wished her a goodnight. They parted at the stairs; when he was half way up, she called after him.

He turned around. “Thank you, Mr Jarvis,” she told him sincerely. He nodded and there was a softness to his features. He continued up the stairs. She went to the drawing room and helped herself to the whiskey and picked up the book that was lying on one of the side tables, it was Charlotte Bronte’s Villette. The copy was dog eared half way through and she briefly wondered why whoever had been reading hadn’t taken it with them. She sat down on the couch and began reading.

Lucy Snowe had just reached Madame Beck’s school when Peggy heard gravel being crunched under an approaching car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this chapter! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearly at the end of this story, only like 2 or 3 more chapters to go. Thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you think of this chapter!

**Safe House, Eastern Switzerland:**

Peggy sighed with relief as Howard emerged from the car. She replaced the poker she had taken from the fireplace and waited for him by the front door. He entered, dropping a duffle bag on the ground and closing the door behind him. Despite the late hour he still looked to be full of energy, or maybe he was over tired, she mused; it certainly wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility.

 

“You’re still up,” he said surprised before she could say hello; Howard never was one for formalities. He didn’t offer any explanation as to where he had been and he probably wouldn’t unless she prompted him, but that could all wait for a moment, because he had come back. It was one of those moments when she could forgive and forget all of the crazy, stupid, and morally ambiguous things he had done throughout of their friendship; one of those redeeming moments she had learned were, for the majority, few and far between, so she never took them for granted; she enjoyed them and then let them go and began preparing herself for the next reckless and ethically dubious thing he did.

 

“I was under the impression you weren’t coming back,” she told him, trying not to show she was glad; she didn’t want his ego getting any bigger.

 

“Well, I told you I was going to help you, didn’t I? And I meant what I said. But first, a drink.”

 

She followed him to the drawing room, taking a few seconds to examine the duffel bag he had brought with him. He went straight for the whiskey, poured himself some, and tossed the copy of _Villette_ unceremoniously over his shoulder so he could sit on the couch. His behaviour seemed so normal, it was like their fight had never happened. Even though Howard didn’t seem like he wanted an apology from her, she felt the need to offer one even though she found them awkward and had no idea how to start.

 

“Howard, I,” she began and found herself having to start again. “Howard, I want to apologise for earlier. I know you were just trying to look out for me and I should never have used Steve against you like that.”

 

“I used him against you first, Peg. And I get why you’re doing this; I know how much you loved him, how much you still love him.”

 

She sat next to him on the couch and took a sip from the glass she had left on the low table earlier and forgotten about. What a pair they were, flying half way across the world to save a man they both loved and honouring him by drinking whiskey. For some odd reason it made her smile and then Howard smiled and they clinked glasses. Even if he wasn’t here and this was all a waste of time, she didn’t regret it-not at this moment- she would when she returned to New York and had to accept Angie was gone, but there was some strange sense of closure in this moment that was hard to describe; something that she couldn’t put her finger on but knew she needed.

 

After she finally dragged herself to bed, she realised it was the first time she had smiled at something in relation to Steve without it being followed by intense heartache or sadness.

 

**Same day, New York, 8pm local time:**

“And you’re actually thinking of going,” Betty asked as her and Angie sat at the kitchen table eating dinner. Betty was nice enough to let Angie stay with her until she found her own place or convinced Ms Fry to let her move back in to the Griffith; not that she was planning on staying in New York that much longer.

 

“It’s clear Broadway doesn’t want me. LA could by my chance. I don’t wanna throw that way.”

 

“I’m just saying, what if you end up hating it?”

 

The thought had crossed her mind on the walk to Betty’s apartment after her shift but she hated New York more at the moment. It didn’t feel the same without Peggy and yet, Angie knew, that if Peggy were to come back, the city also wouldn’t be big enough for the both of them. She wanted-maybe even needed- a fresh start and she had this unexplainable gut feeling that LA was that place.

 

She wasn’t just thinking about going, she was going; the rest was just logistics.

 

 

**Thursday, Eastern Switzerland, 42 hours until bombing:**

“A stun grenade,” Peggy repeated incredulously. She turned the grenade around in her hands. It didn’t look that much different than any other grenade, it had a pin and everything else a normal grenade did but apparently this one didn’t kill it just disorientated. It seemed like the kind of thing Howard would invent in his spare time and then try and hide from the American military until they threatened him to hand it over. Jarvis placed a plate of eggs in front of her and glanced uneasily at the contraption. “And you just happened to have a store of these in Switzerland?”

 

He looked at her like that was one of the most improbable things he had ever heard. “I went to England.”

 

“Why were they in England?”

 

“I didn’t want them anywhere the American military could easily get their hands on them,” he answered like a paranoid conspiracy theorist, or that man who once tried to convince the world was going to end as she stood beside him on the subway.

 

“And you really went all the way to England for them?”

 

“Why do you think I was gone for so long?” He asked, talking with his mouth half full. _Maybe because I didn’t think you were actually going to return_ , she answered to herself. She sipped her black coffee as Jarvis joined them at the table with his own food.

 

“What are the plans for the day, Ms Carter? Are we going to scout the location, as you say?” He sounded like a child who was finally going to be brought to sweet shop.

 

“We are not going to ‘scout the location’, Mr Jarvis, as all three of us are known to Leviathan. However, now that I know what weapons I have to work with, I can sort out a plan of attack.”

 

 _And hopefully not get us all killed,_ but she left that part unsaid.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**West German Intelligence Division office, British Sector, 12 hours to bomb drop**

Chief Williams yelling down the receiver of a telephone wasn’t anything the agents under his supervision had never witnessed before. Chief Williams yelling down the phone about the American Military was also something not unknown to happen. Chief Williams yelling down the phone after a visit from a representative of the American Air Force was something unusual because the American Military never dealt with them in person. It had captured the attention of every agent working that day and very few of them were trying to hide it. They all shared inquisitive looks with one another and Klaudia was sure some went her way but she didn’t respond to them. Her desk was the closest to the chief’s office and it took a lot of self-control not to eavesdrop but she made herself do it. She was a curious person but she was also cautious; she was already on thin ice with her chief for demanding she be allowed to go to Switzerland two days ago, she didn’t want to give him any more reason to be angry.

 

 _Psssst_. She raised her head from her draft report at the annoying snake-like sound. Other agents pointed her to the agent the furthest from their supervisor’s office. He was holding a sheet of paper that had: _what’s he saying?_ scrawled on it. She rolled her eyes and pointed downwards with her pen, silently telling the other agent to do his work. A few moments later, the phone call ended and they waited for the post shouting phone call ritual: an agent or agents called into the chief’s office and usually they were yelled at. Klaudia didn’t pay much attention to it, preferring to finish writing her report. She was more surprised when Williams called her name; the closest contact she had had with the American military was the American soldiers she had met during the war.

 

Dumbstruck, she recapped her pen and made her way to the office, shutting the door behind her. Her chief gestured for her to sit and she complied slowly, suddenly not trusting her movements. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “What did you say that SSR agent was doing in Switzerland?”

 

“Looking around, maybe interview a few people. I thought I told you all this Wednesday?”

 

“There’s nothing like double checking things, Agent Stein,” he said like he was imparting some fatherly wisdom, but there was nothing fatherly about Williams. He wasn’t unkind but he was someone who had seen and done a lot of things and one of them was interviewing people accused of being Nazi spies. “She wasn’t, perhaps, going to infiltrate a Leviathan base and then have it blown up afterwards?”

 

“Excuse me?” There wasn’t any mistaking what he said but she needed some way to deflect.

 

“Because I was just told that the American air force is planning on blowing up a Leviathan base in Switzerland tonight,” he revealed to her, almost nonchalantly.

 

For a moment, she forgot to breathe as she realised the true extent of his words. If Thompson had told her it was something of this magnitude so would have done something more about it than issue one cryptic warning. “They can’t do that,” she said quickly, too quickly and she knew Williams had noticed. “I mean, there hasn’t been enough time for anyone to try and get information from it yet; it could be a treasure trove of intel.”

 

“That it could,” he agreed and she hoped, for a second, that she might be able to leave, but he continued on: “Our main priority may be the arresting and bringing to justice of war criminals; but Western Europe is our jurisdiction whether it be for Nazis or Communists. If you are ever talking to your friends at the SSR, you might remind them of that, hm?”

 

He didn’t wait for answer.

 

“Close the door on your way out.”

 

**Eastern Switzerland, 4 hours to bombing:**

They had a plan, not a great plan, but it was a significant improvement on what they came to Switzerland with. They also had weapons and Howard’s stun grenades, which she had been by Howard himself assured were a ‘game changer’. She wasn’t entirely sure about ‘game changer’, some of his inventions had a habit of having completely opposite effects of what he claimed they had, but if it equalised the odds than she would be happy.

 

“Can you see anything, Ms Carter, “Jarvis asked, looking to Peggy in the tree she had climbed in order to get a better view. She removed the night vision goggles from her eyes (also courtesy of Stark Industries). He held out his hands for the goggles and caught them as they fell. Peggy followed them from the tree a few minutes later.

 

“There’s a lot less men than I had expected there to be, “she told him and took a brief indulgent second to look up at the night sky. You could never see these many stars in New York; New York had other beauties but the stars held a wonder of their own. The sky was clear, the moon was large and the stars were in abundance; it was the kind of night Peggy remembered being told in S.O.E training was perfect for a bombing raid. “They’re either seriously short staffed or they’re expecting us.”

 

“And what are the odds for it being the former?”

 

Astronomically bad,” she answered shortly. “Alright, then. When I give the signal, Howard, you will throw the stun grenades over the wall, making sure to leave enough for inside the building. Mr Jarvis and I will scale the wall, enter the building, and see what we can find. Howard, you will wait at the car. If I and Mr Jarvis aren’t at the car by two thirty, you are to leave without us. Understood?”

 

Jarvis raised his hand and she wasn’t surprised in the slightest. “Why half two?”

 

“Because at three am something is going to happen and I don’t want to be in the vicinity when it does, “ she answered and then added, “And before you ask, I have no idea what it is. Anything else?”

 

He shook his head, although she could see one hundred and one questions written on his face. She and Mr Jarvis got into position and she gave the signal to Howard. “Remember to cover your ears, he told them. He pulled out the pin and hurled it over the wall. There was anxious second where it seemed like it wasn’t going to work but then there was a loud bang and a flash of bright white light. She and Jarvis moved immediately, Jarvis boosting her up and then he in turn got a boost from Howard, the bag of stun grenades also managing to end up over the wall. The soldiers patrolling the perimeter were dazed and were easy enough to take out without resorting to firearms.

 

No more soldiers arrived. She and Jarvis stood in confusion for a couple seconds, waiting for men from inside to come rushing out, but none did. “I’d say it’s safe to assume Ms Underwood knows we’re here.”

 

He was right, of course, but she didn’t want to dwell on that fact, because it spawned a whole host of unpleasant scenarios in her mind.

 

“Let’s get inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the quickest chapter update I have ever done! Just a note about the stun grenades and night vision goggles: I know for a fact that stun grenades weren’t around in the forties and I’m not all too sure about night vision goggles but for the sake of the fic let’s just say Howard invented them and then hid them until the years they did actually emerge. Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think so leave a comment!


End file.
